So, this has been an insane week. Insane.

The site move.
 Crazy online shenanigans.
 Quitting smoking.
 Getting ready for my screenplay reading.

I'm glad it's over because I've been absolutely manic the entire time, shaking and yammering and thinking these bizarre thoughts and just behaving like a spaz. To wit: last night I came home and found this old They Might Be Giants album (Nerd music with a capital Nerd, I know…) and put it on. There is a song called She's An Angel I think and I blasted it - this version I have uses a Tuba instead of a bass and for some reason the tuba really got to me and I started tearing up. Then I jumped around my pad like Reese Witherspoon in Election. For no reason. Then I looked at old photos and felt like an undying love for everyone in the world. And then I pulled out the old bong and smoked weed all night for no reason. Fucking strange, man. I'm telling you. M's probably at the end of her rope.

So a couple quick things…

Funny story. Friend D. came by late last night to pick up the script for the reading tomorrow night. He said he was heartbroken and went on to say why. A week ago he was in the supermarket and he saw this woman. He never does this but he was so taken by her that he went up and talked to her - they ended up exchanging numbers in the parking lot. So at 2AM that very same night she calls him up saying "I have a bottle of wine and I'm coming over." So she does. They end up talking and then rolling around on the floor together. She is INCREDIBLE, he says. Freaks him out. But the whole time she keeps laughing and saying "You have no idea, do you."

So later, after, he says "Why do you keep saying that? No. I have no idea. What are you talking about?"

Turns out she's Traci Lords. Porn star turned "legit" actress.

Poor guy hasn't watched much porn and just didn't know. So now he's stuck on her (not just for the sex) and keeps calling her, but she's going through a separation and can't see him. He's sad.

I was high at the time, but I had the sense not to tell him about the video we used to have of her blowing four guys at once. That's true love.

Elsewhere…

Continuing my recent streak of friends-in-crisis, last night I shot pool with Don. Don went to my high school (he's older) and just moved to L.A. Wants to be a writer. Etc. So in my new manic way I'm telling him about a meeting Frank and I had just had about this film festival that he REALLY wants to go to and we might be able to have the producers of the film we're doing together pay for the trip and maybe even shoot some prelim footage and pimp our short film but basically just party for a week. Anyway, he doesn't really react and switches topics. So later I tell him that I've noticed that he's turned into kind of a boring prick. I didn't word it quite like that. Whatever. So I'm being honest, which I rarely care enough to be with him, but for some reason I felt like being blunt.

The upshot of this is that he eventually revealed to me that he hates himself and that he's jealous of me and that he couldn't see how his opinion would matter to me so he just doesn't really react to things that I say, blah blah blah.

Oy.

I really just wanted to shoot pool.
 (I kicked his ass by the way. In 8-ball, 9-ball, and straight pool. Seriously, play with me sometime. I'll fuck you up.)

Drama. 90% of the times that I create it, I regret it instantly.

Meanwhile…

A big acquisitions guy just called me. He'd flown in from Sundance yesterday after seeing 24 MOVIES in 6 days. Crazy. This is the guy who stopped me in Staples to say he'd watched my short and recognized me and loves it and let's talk. So we talked for a long time and basically are just forging a relationship. He's passing the short on to different people in different companies and agencies, and is going to read the comedy script as soon as I send it to him. He's young and hungry and going up. A good person to know at a good time.

NostraSTEEus…

…I'm fucking ahead of my time. After writing yesterday's entry, I opened the trades to read this:

Where's Harvey?

Miramax co-chairman Harvey Weinstein is still missing in action from a mystery illness. He is so out-of-pocket that top executives in town and some of his closest friends haven't spoken to him since before Christmas. Miramax has built a wall around him and refuses to say which hospital he's in. The official word from his company is that he is still recuperating from a bacterial infection. Miramax said Weinstein is receiving memos from his staff. So, if he's recuperating… why isn't he returning phone calls to key business associates and friends? Harvey, phone home!

Spooky, huh? I was discussing it with the above acquisitions guy. He said people are suggesting Miramax start developing, "Weekend At Harvey's".

Ouch.

Finally…

…Wish me luck on the reading tomorrow. Todd and I get to finally hear our action screenplay (over a year in writing) read aloud and to get some feedback from people we trust. All without the comfort of smoking!

Really Finally…

…A while ago Mike Reed asked people to send in Goodfellas haiku. So now I want you to send in ones on 1999's best film: American Beauty haiku.

Lemme try a couple quick ones:

My heart is so full
 Babe, check my dad's Nazi plate!
 Dig my creepy stare?

Mena Suvari
 She has rose petals for breasts
 Cross-eyed Lolita

You try.

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